


What´s in a name?

by rachelvanbora



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:35:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9051820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachelvanbora/pseuds/rachelvanbora
Summary: Pure and unashamed Xmas fluff. Some edits at the end to make it even more Christmasy. A Secret Santa gift for the lovely Linguini. Check out other Cabin Pressure gifts on tumblr ( http://fandotsecretsanta.tumblr.com )





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Linguini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linguini/gifts).



(LIVING ROOM, afternoon)  
Douglas: (singing and playing the piano)...I used to fly/ and now I teach/there are chords/I cannot reach/there are words/I cannot say-  
Carolyn: (operatically) – and my hair is really grey.  
Douglas: Why do I always fall for the wrong woman?  
Carolyn: Not wrong, just one that doesn´t allow you to wallow in self-pity.  
Douglas: It´s the season.  
Carolyn: I know. Why do you think I always invite Arthur and - Plopsy?  
Douglas: If we weren´t talking about Arthur, I´d say he married her just because the name irks you so much.  
Carolyn: Could have been worse. Don´t forget there was a Glupsy in the running.  
Douglas: True.  
Carolyn: How´s the hand?  
Douglas: Fine. Though I´ll probably have to downgrade my cover of the Star Wars cantina song.  
Carolyn: What, from fifteen fingers to ten? I never liked the tune anyway. (long pause) There is no mistletoe above the piano, Douglas.  
Douglas: No. I thought it was implicit. (improvises lyrics to a well-know tune) Wherever she may go/there´s a mistletoe/no one else can see/floating it gently/ geostationary-/right above her head/  
Carolyn: You know, I brought you bandages and Tiger Balm, but now I feel like stuffing them into your mouth.  
Douglas: (continues with the same tune) Oh, where have you been/kinky Carolyn/hiding in plain sight/always by my side/bossing me around-  
Carolyn: -give me the hand, you pillock. When are you going to see Dr. Volmer?  
Douglas: Right after the holidays. It´s nothing.  
Carolyn: Of course it is. But he´d be very hurt if you´d replaced him with Tiger Balm.  
Douglas: (continues with the same tune) and wouldn´t that be/ the height of iniquity-  
Carolyn: There really is no way of shutting you up today.  
Douglas: On the contrary, there are several well-proven ways. Let me show you... 

Arthur: Mum! Douglas! My old house! Hello! ...Hallo? Anyone there?  
Plopsy: Maybe we´re too early.  
Arthur: Brilliant. While we wait, we can play Cloud-Breathing Dragons!  
Plopsy: I suppose it´s cold enough.  
Arthur: Hooray!  
(half an hour later)  
Martin: Freeze!  
Plopsy: I am freezing.  
Martin: Arthur, it´s 10 below zero, were you just about to insert a metallic object into your mouth?  
Arthur: No, Skip, this is a plastic whistle. And when I blow it, it will make sound and steam at the same time! (the sound is long and shrill)  
Martin: Actually, it's condensation.  
Theresa: Plopsy, Arthur, you haven´t aged a day.  
Douglas: (opening the door) Of all the abominable Christmas carols... well, hallo, captain du Creff. Theresa, what a lovely surprise. And his serene highness Scott Eugen.  
Gene: My name is Gene.  
Carolyn (joins Douglas at the door): For goodnes´sake, if you all don´t get in this second, I´ll have to start dousing you with anti-freeze. 

(LIVING ROOM, a few hours later)  
Theresa: Douglas, the roast was truly excellent.  
Martin: As always.  
Douglas: Carolyn made it this year.  
Martin: You mean you granted her kitchen entry rights during Christmas?  
Theresa: It was fabulous.  
Douglas: Naturally. There was a well-earned promotion from junior sous-chef to masterchef earlier this year.  
Carolyn: Douglas is rediscovering the pleasures of delegating.  
Martin: Ha. I remember him being quite good at it.  
Douglas: I was doing you a favour. You loved doing the paperwork. And the walk-arounds. And -  
Arthur: I loved the hoovering!  
Plopsy: (with a huge smile) He still does.  
Arthur: Because it´s brilliant. Will you play us the piano Douglas?  
(sound of broken dishes)  
Gene: Sorry, auntie Carolyn.  
Martin: Scott, that´s no way to drive a vehicle through an obstacle course.  
Theresa: We shouldn´t have allowed that toy on the table.  
Douglas: Houston, we have a problem. The Lunar Rover is drowning in the Sea of Gravy.  
Gene: Mare...Mare, Mare Condimentum! (a beat) It´s not a toy, mum.  
Theresa: Really? What is it then?  
Gene: An exact and functional miniature replica of the Lunar Rover, in which Gene Cernan broke the lunar speed record -  
Gene/Carolyn/Douglas/Arthur/Plopsy: -11.2 mph.  
Gene: See mum? It´s educational.  
Arthur: Will you play the Magnificent Men, Douglas?  
Douglas: Perhaps later. Hey, commander Gene, scoot over here. I got a new training mission for you.  
Gene: Great! Can we start in the bathroom, though? The rover really needs a shower now.  
Martin: I´ll do the dishes.  
Arthur: Drat. But I can decorate mum´s kitchen. She always forgets.  
Plopsy (to Carolyn): Don´t worry, I´ll supervise.  
Carolyn: Just don´t let him put baubles in the microwave. 

 

(DOUGLAS´ STUDY)  
Gene: What are we doing, uncle Douglas?  
Douglas: Improving your hand-to-eye coordination, timing, spatial awareness and non-verbal communication skills.  
Gene: Right. Cause it looks like you´re trying to teach me some odd notes on the piano.  
Douglas: So it may seem. To the uninitiated.  
Gene: A-ha. Brilliant. 

 

(LIVING ROOM)  
Theresa: So, how´s Douglas´ hand?  
Carolyn: He decided to see a doctor. Which means he´ s either getting wiser and less pig-headed as he gets older, or... it´s really bothering him a lot.  
Theresa: Well. If you ever need a specialist-  
Carolyn: -I know. Thank you. (a beat) Tell me about Gene. Is he still the sole member of The Lichtensteinian Eugene Cernan Appreciation Society?  
Theresa: As well as the proud founder and a very strict president. He tried to rope Maxi in, but Maxi pretends to be a fan of unmanned missions, just to annoy him.  
Carolyn: What about Martin?  
Theresa: Martin supports manned flights wholeheartedly. That´s about the only thing he and Gene can agree on nowadays.  
Carolyn: He´s still upset about the boy changing his name?  
Theresa: Scott Eugen Wenzel Erasmus. Do you remember, his christening almost triggered a constitutional crisis?  
Carolyn: Well, not many Lichtensteinian princes were named after American test pilots. You know, if I had a penny for every time Martin waxed lyrical about Scott Crossfied, I could have actually paid him.  
Martin: Not that much.  
Carolyn: A fair amount.  
Martin: Ooh, downright royal. In Timbuctoo.  
Theresa: Come puberty, Scott suddenly decides astronauts are cooler than test pilots. For a while he simply wanted to be called Cernan-  
Martin: -the last man on the moon-  
Theresa: -but then he very graciously settled for Gene.  
Martin: Whoever chooses a name like that? And how come he gets to choose a name? You have to learn to work with what you have.  
Carolyn: Amen.  
Martin: One day he lectures me extensively on orbital maneuvers, the next day he crashes a lunar rover into a sauce dish.  
Douglas: Martin, I´ve forgotten how delightful it was to have you around.  
Martin: Was it? Oh. Thank you Douglas, I actually ...oh no, wait, there´s a barb somewhere, waiting to be articulated.  
Douglas: All I´m saying is when you get this grumpy I look positively angelic in comparison.  
Arthur: Mum, you´re going to love your new kitchen!  
Carolyn: What have you done?  
Arthur: Baubles on the lamp, garlands on the door and...a brand new space age top-of-the-range kitchen gadget!  
Gene: NASA approved?  
Arthur: Come and see!

(KITCHEN)  
Arthur: Mum, Douglas, let me introduce you to your new blender. Ultra silent, ultra fast and producing the most delicious smoothies!  
Carolyn: Oh, dearheart-  
Arthur: -and now (attempting French accent) degustation! The green ones are with Alao Vera and spinach for mum, Plopsy and Theresa to make them even more beautiful, there´s an aviator´s coctail for Gene and Martin, full of blueberries to improve the night vision-  
Douglas: -I want an aviator´s coctail.  
Arthur: You got a better one, Douglas. Guaranteed to magic away any joint pain, it´s made from shark cartilage and dandelion leaves.  
Douglas: Ah. Well, I suppose after drinking that, joint pain will be the least of my worries.  
Arthur: Bottoms up!  
Carolyn: Well, I must say-  
Theresa: -it was lovely!  
Martin: Delicious.  
Arthur: I know. I supervised.  
Douglas: Plopsy. How can we ever thank you enough? I was fearing a near-death experience and this actually had a very nice kick.  
Plopsy: I went easy on the cartilage and added some cayenne pepper.  
Arthur: Will you now play the Magnificent Men, Douglas?  
Douglas: Certainly. 

(MARTIN´S CAR, few hours later)  
Martin: That was a fine thing you did tonight.  
Gene: If I swerved a second sooner, I would have cleared that sauce dish.  
Martin: I mean how you helped Douglas with the difficult notes.  
Gene: No, no, that´s just an old flight school exercise. Dividing one chord between two people helps to improve hand-to-eye and timing.  
Martin: Well. Good timing then...Gene.  
Gene: Thanks, dad. (a beat) Did you just call me Gene?  
Martin: Don´t get used to it.  
Gene: That name really does sound good, doesn´t it?  
Martin: You´re pushing it.  
Gene: Did you always like your name, dad?  
Martin: With the exception of yours, it´s the best name a man can have. Though I might have realised it only after I heard your mother pronounce it.  
Theresa: Aw, Martin.  
Gene: That was a very unsound driving practice. Not to mention a little bit gross.  
Theresa : Merry Christmas, boys.  
Martin/Gene: Merry Christmas.

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thanks to my lovely betas, all remaining mistakes are, of course, all mine. If you´d like to read more about Martin and his obsession with Scott Crossfield (my headcanon) check out "Secret Stash" (http://archiveofourown.org/works/4879537)


End file.
